


wordless

by thisisnotwhatihadplanned



Series: who I am today (always) [4]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Autism, Projection, a Personal work tbh, oof
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-10-25 16:43:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisnotwhatihadplanned/pseuds/thisisnotwhatihadplanned
Summary: i wanna write an autistic character to relate to. and until i write original work im gonna scratch my id (is that how u say it?) with my favorite band.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i wanna write an autistic character to relate to. and until i write original work im gonna scratch my id (is that how u say it?) with my favorite band.

"Just breathe Tyler, it's okay."

Tyler tugged on his ear. Words, words, words. They cut into his head, splitting his brain at each eardrum.

Mark sighed.

Dissapointment.

The feeling behind 'dissapointment' held too much weight to be brought out in four syllables. 

The heel of his palm felt good against his head. He tapped it. 

Again, 

again,

again...

He usually loved words. He could use them well. 'Hyperverbal' was a word thrown around by doctors with smelly breath and loud shoes, back when pleated jeans were in style. 

Sometimes, people's words cut right through him. Too loud. Too loud. 

Not enough movement. It was like being inside where the elecrical hums and stagnant air breed restlessness. It was being trapped in a too-colorful classroom while one voice diced up your insides. 

His words were not there. It was too long on too little sleep. 

"Tyler, man, can you do something else?"

His hand stilled. It twitched in the air. 

A voice came from behind. Josh.

"Ty?"

Josh gestured to the space next to him on the matress. 

The blankets were soft and Josh was too. A warm heavy blanket. A thinking, feeling blanket that chose gentleness every time. 

Wordlessly, they situated next to each other. It was cold, and Tyler was a heater. Back to chest, legs falling asleep and toes wiggling, they napped. 

It was uncomfortable, lasting twenty minutes. Tyler's neck stiffened and Josh's feet ached from numbness. Close was good. They just needed to readjust. 

Josh knew it was a bad day for Tyler. Not a bad meltdown day, at least he hoped not. More like a low words day. Josh didn't understand it, but he saw Tyler's pain when there were interviews when he was exhausted. Tyler always disappeared after, finding a place to hide. 

He rubbed Tyler's forearm firmly and guided him down, down. Got the good blanket and draped it over the tired, beautiful boy in front of him. Josh faced him, took in his features, memorizing each eyebrow and pimple and expression. He loved Tyler's mannerisms. They told Josh a lot. How confortable he was, the difference between 'thinking' silence and 'get me out of here now' silence. 

Still, sometimes they confused him, and Tyler didn't always tell. 

Right now his fingers idly ran along Josh's t shirt fabric. The threads of the bottom hem were taken into consideration. 

"Hmmmmm."

Josh smiled. Quiet humming was usually relaxed. Loud humming was 'get me out'.

Tyler hummed to hear his own voice. The noises he'd want to make. 

His body found rhythm. Back and forth he rocked. Toes wiggling, hands touching. 

Josh just knew this as Tyler getting tired. He didn't know the importance of moving, not the way Tyler did. 

Wordlessly, they showed love. Tyler gave a shy kiss to Josh's knuckles. Josh poked his nose in response, grinning. 

This was enough, more than enough. 

Tyler slept. 

It was a rare sight to see Tyler asleep when Josh woke up. A warm feeling coursed through his chest. Looking at Tyler asleep was different than looking at him awake. His face was relaxed, brow unfurrowed, mouth closed. 

He shook him awake, feeling guilty.

"Ty?"

Tyler was looking at Josh's shirt, but he was listening. A harsh voice in his head told him to look up, he was too strange, too indulgent. 

Pain. Faces were not going to be looked at today. 

"We're gonna play some ball, stretch our legs."

Tyler looked out the window. Sure enough, they were parked at a rest stop next to a field. 

No thank you.

Push yourself. 

Tyler nodded his head and burrowed it into the space between the wall and the pillow, seeking one last comfort. 

"Okay. I've gotta stretch."

With a pat on the back Josh climbed over the seats and out the door. Tyler watched as he raised his arms to each side, popped his back, and started walking. 

Tyler reached for his backpack. Headphones. He was fine with wearing them at home, around his friends, around Josh. The rest area wasn't that busy. Yet. He weighed the choices. The headphones were black (big surprise) and slim. He slipped them over each ear and followed Josh. 

Usually, Tyler loved ball games. Any chance to win was good to him. But his senses seemed to be set out to destroy him today. 

Josh silently pleaded, hoping that Tyler wouldn't push himsef past the limit. He was a perfectionist, extremely hard on himself. 

He heard Tyler's voice. It sounded like it was far away. Not words, humming. Agitated humming. 

Josh and the other guys turned around to see Tyler trying to make his way to them. But there was a new group of people, a large family with a barking dog, walking on to the field. Josh saw the problem. Either Tyler would have to go around the group to them, or around the dog to go back to the van. All noises were painful, freezing Tyler's thoughts. 

Josh started walking

"Hmmmmmmmm."

Now Tyler was chewing on his right hand, between his thumb and forefinger. Hard. 

"What's wrong with that man Mommy?" 

Josh flashed a rude look to the assumed mother, who was ignoring her child in favor of openly staring. The nerve of some people. 

"Is he on drugs?"

Josh just shook his head. He didn't owe them an explanation. 

"Tyler, I'm gonna walk back to the van with you. Is that okay?" 

That's when Josh saw just how hard Tyler was biting. Tyler's stimming, even during meltdowns, never involved biting or tearing skin. This was new. 

"Don't hurt yourself Tyler, Can you do something else with your hand?" 

Josh's voice sounded disproportionately conversational to the situation. 

Tyler traded hand biting for head shaking. 

The dog moved, their path was now clear. 

The van was unlocked. Tyler didn't get in though. He sat on the grass in front of the parking space. 

"Can I see the hand you had in your mouth?"

Sure enough, there were beads of blood on both sides of the hand. Violent red bite marks marred Tyler's soft skin. 

This caused great pain in Josh. 

"Uh-uh let's clean that up, okay?"

"Mmm."

Louder. 

"Mhmmm."

This repeated, getting louder and louder until bystanders were looking. Tyler was frustrated.

"You wanna use my notes app to talk?"

Tyler nodded. 

His thumbs worked over the screen. Josh squinted to see what Tyler typed.

'i can't talk right now'

"Can I ask why?"

He shrugged.

"Okay."

Josh went around to the back, to get the crew's first aid kit. When he came back, he saw that Tyler had started tapping his head with the palm of his hand again, this time on top of his buzzcut. He frantically rubbed, then smoothly tapped. Over and over. 

Josh reached for his other hand, gently applying anticeptic to it and wrapping it in a bandaid. Tyler's fingers explored the texture of the new bandage. When he seemed satisfied, Josh packed everything back up. 

"You wanna lay down?" 

Josh meant the van, but Tyler laid right back where he was. 

"In the van?"

Tyler's cheeks reddened. 

He followed Josh back to the mattress. He squeezed his body as close to the wall as possible, and started exploring it with his fingers, bringing them to his hair, then the wall, the routine taking him closer to calm. 

The van interior was a lovely scratchy carpet material, and Tyler rubbed his cheek back and forth against it. 

Josh was saying something to him. Even the gentlest voice was grating on him today. He put his hands over his headphones. 

Wordless.


	2. Chapter 2

'It's okay it's okay it's okay it's okay it's okay......'

Tyler's inner monolouge was doing little to ease the pain. His brain was scattered. 

Too much. Too much. 

Too much. 

Caught on a mantra he was powerless to stop. 

"and....... several. Working....... tour."

The words felt distant and he couldn't process them. He saw buzzing lights and tugged on his ear. 

it's okay it's okay it's okay it's okay.....

The woman was looking at him. He could feel her gaze. A small, precious moment of no voices and then Josh continued, his voice unsure. Josh stuttered, got caught up on a phrase or two. A deep well of black bubbled in Tyler's stomach. Josh hated this. Josh hated this. 

it's okay it's okay it's okay it's okay. 

Tyler's leg turned the words staccato. it's-leg bounce-oh-leg bounce-kay-leg bounce. 

A tether. His blinking slowed, taking in a few moments of dark, blocking it all out. 

The woman had blackheads dotting her nose and she spoke with a slight lisp, which caused her to be overly careful with her prenunciaton. 

"Tyler? Do you have anything to add?"

"Um." He shifted. 

He tried to remember the question. Something about songwriting. Lyrics or melody first. 

He'd been given this question almost every time they'd been interviewed in their short careers. He almost had the answer memorized. But his words, which were usually all lined up and smooth, ready to go, formed a nebulous cloud, the anxiety and overwhelm mixing all of it up. 

Josh read this.

"Actually, it's drum beats first. I'll.... something out, and the rest... him. My.... inspiring."

The woman and Josh laughed, and Tyler laughed along.

Tyler examined the bandage on his right hand. Focus on one tiny detail, wash the rest away. It sort of helped.

Finally, finally, they all stood up. 

He hadn't answered any questions and now he was supposed to shake the interviewer's hand. She held on too long and her sharp eyes tried  
to find his, scrutinizing his face.

"Good luck tonight, Tyler."

Tyler nodded.

Josh was mad at this, for some reason, but Tyler just wanted to get away. 

He was too tired to dissect everyone's behavior, the mask was slipping. He'd been on survival mode for too long, it finally snapped. 

Josh tried to keep his pace.

"I thought that was never going to end. And she was so rude." Even Josh's low, sweet voice was sending him further into panic. 

Tyler clamped his hands over his ears. He shook his head back and forth, starting as a no, ending as a frantic way to calm. 

He woke up tired, down to his very bones. His words weren't cooperating, and everything hurt. 

But according to Josh, according to everyone else with him, they hadn't even been busy. 

When they reached the door to the radio station, Josh realized what was about to happen. Tyler couldn't go outside feeling like this. The traffic lights, all the cars, a million other things. 

Disability was never a part of Josh's everyday thoughts until he met Tyler. Tyler had to think and prepare for sensations and situations Josh never experienced. But he was Tyler, and Tyler ran himself at full capacity until he was empty. He'd been running on empty for too long and now he ran out of gas. 

He looked at his friend's bitten lips and dark circles, wandering eyes and limbs that frantically tried to find respite in movement. 

There was an empty room to the side. 

"Tyler? Maybe we should rest in here for a little while before going out." 

Tyler ran into the room, Josh following. 

They kept the lights off and Tyler was suddenly self consious. He was afraid to move. 

"Can I get some food out of your bag?"

Tyler nodded. 

Josh was careful not to crinkle the bags of chips as he opened them. 

Cheez-its and red bull for the both of them, it seemed. Tyler wasn't hungry, but tasting the food grounded him. 

Josh laid down on the floor. He wanted Tyler to get some rest. His guess was right, and Tyler laid down beside him. 

"Sorry." 

Josh looked at Tyler's face; it was tense with frustration. 

"We did an interview in a city we've never seen. And we sang with people we'd never talked to. They knew us. All the way in New York." 

Tyler looked at Josh. It made him feel brave enough to go on. 

"Don't be sorry, Ty." 

The door opened. 

"We've been waiting outside for fifteen minutes!" 

Mark was loud. 

Josh watched it unfold. Tyler bit down on his bandaged hand, Mark jumped back and closed the door behind him.

The outburst was short lived, and Tyler stopped hurting himself. 

A minute later his phone dinged. 

mark: sorry about that, we're ready when you are. wanted to try a new resturaunt tonight. let us know if ur going. 

Tyler showed Josh the text, and Josh just shrugged. 

"I kinda wanted a nap after all that's happened."

Tyler nodded. 

tyler: we'll be there soon. no thanks

|-/

Most of Tyler's journal entries were gibberish. He captured a feeling as he experienced it. When he wrote a song, however, it usually came  
from 'nonsense'. He put structure to chaos. 

Overload, of course, was hard to capture as it left him exhausted and wordless. 

But something he felt that day had to be captured. The first paragraph was no good. Then he kept pushing, kept exploring the block between his brain and mouth. Focused  
on Josh's reactions, he felt something bloom. 

He could be vague. Hell, it was easier for him to he vauge. More people could put their struggles and triumphs to his words. 

Josh was snoring. 

Josh had his mouth open and the little hairs dotting his upper lip were caught by the lamplight. Tyler kicked his feet happily. 

Things that made him feel okay were right there. Josh's shock of blue hair reminded him of all the places that blue hair had gone with him. Home. 

It had taken Tyler a while to grieve over Josh's brown hair; it had become another part of his life. 

But now blue was good. It was Good. Down to his bones. 

Tyler didn't care as long as it was Josh's head underneath it.

'I don't care what's in your hair I just wanna know what's on your mind'

He could do something with that. 

|-/

"Tylrr" 

Tyler was rooting under Josh. Josh woke up. He saw fuzzy brown peeking out under the covers. 

"Stop wiggling." 

"No." 

"Then go sleep over there." 

"No." 

Josh sighed. Despite his teasing, Tyler squeezed out from under his bandmate and adjusted his pillows. 

"G'night Josh."

"Goodnight Tyler." 

He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading


End file.
